Any Other Day
by Keepingfaith
Summary: A birthday gift makes both Christine's and Erik's day.


_This is just a small fluff fic, and my first for Phantom. I'm usually a Third Watch fic writer, so if this falls short I apologize immensely. I hope you like it. This is of course dedicated to Project Phantom, and a very special Phantom haunting the Majestic Theatre today._

_ANY OTHER DAY_

On any other day he would never have spied upon her as he did now. How could he resist the lovely flush that covered her face, the laughter that shone in her eyes as she danced about her room clutching her new dress to her bosom? She danced in front of her mirror, flirting with her reflection as she pranced about. Christine held the dress higher, holding the sides flush against her as if she were wearing it and admiring the intricate patterns sewn across its bodice. Her fingers traced the stitches again and again, memorizing them and repeating them like an old song.

He had meant the gift to be a pleasant surprise for her, but he had no idea that her sheer happiness would be a gift for him as well. He smiled to himself, sitting comfortably behind the mirror and peering into her dressing room as she continued her antics. He had left the dress there for her this morning when she left for practice, anxiously awaiting her return. The hours seemed to melt into one another as he paced the length of the mirror, and when the door finally creaked open his attention was riveted to the chair. At first she didn't notice the dress, her arms were full of roses that had no doubt been a birthday gift from the ballet girls. She walked rather awkwardly to her dresser, peering around their bulk before relinquishing them with a contented sigh. Erik had been beside himself, mentally willing her to turn her gaze towards the chair. When she finally did it was the reaction he was hoping for.

Christine had rushed to the chair with a soft exclamation, her hands quick to wrap around the gossamer fabric. She ran her hands along the skirt reverently, so softly that it barely stirred. She brought it to her face, gently rubbing the silky bodice across her cheek. Erik sighed, feeling that touch as if he were the one she had caressed instead. Christine was momentarily distracted, looking about the room to locate the noise's source, but instead found herself drawn to the mirror. That's when she lifted the dress to herself, preening more in awe than vain. Christine had been doing this for the past ten minutes, gently lifting the fabric, testing it between her fingers and running her hands over it again and again.

Erik had the perfect view of her, it was as if she were dancing and flouncing just for him. Her eyes met the mirror almost at his level, and he contented himself with the idea that she was not merely looking at her reflection but looking at him. He could watch her curls bounce with her every movement, her cheeks flush happily with every new delight she discovered on the dress. Finally he could take it no longer and called out to her softly, "Christine..."

She looked up, her trance broken at the sweet melodic voice. Her smile grew broader and she did a full turn with her dress, "Oh Angel, do you like my dress?"

"It suits you well, child," he affirmed, a slight smile in his voice, "That's why I brought it to you."

"Oh, Angel, you gave me this dress?" her eyes, if possible, shone brighter and she took a step towards the mirror. Again, her eyes seemed to find his, and she smiled, "It really is beautiful."

The dress was the loveliest confection of cobalt blue silk with a sheer overlay of gossamer at its skirt. It wasn't the dress that became Christine, rather her radiance that became the dress. Erik felt his grin grow wider beneath the mask, finding it harder and harder to keep the levity out of his voice, "I'm glad you like it, my dear."

She spun again, in love with the gentle swish of the fabric as it twirled about her. An idea struck him then, "Why don't you try it on?"

She smiled, or rather continued to smile since it had never left her face upon seeing the dress, "Oh, it would be so much better to admire that way!"

Erik couldn't help but chuckle at her realization, and watched her disappear behind the folding screen to change. He could barely make out her faint shadow behind the canvas, but he still averted his eyes. He pressed a hand to the uncovered side of his face to cool its heat. To think that the Opera Ghost would blush, but then again he was a bit out of character today. He was smiling to himself when she appeared from behind the screen.

She must have heard his intake of breath because she twirled once again, smoothing down the skirts almost unconsciously, "Do you like the way it looks, Angel?"

"Very much, indeed," he responded in a whisper.

"It looks like a dress my mother had," she went on dreamily, tracing the patterns on the bodice again.

Erik couldn't answer her, he merely nodded to himself as he watched her fingers loop and circle across the waist of the gown. He had seen a picture of her mother on her dresser, and after visiting his own tailor on one of his frequent trips outside the Opera House, had commissioned its design. She really was the image of her mother, but somehow the dress suited her more. After watching her a few more moments, he broke the silence with a gentle reminder, "I think it's time for your lessons now, Christine."

She looked up and asked hopefully, "May I keep the dress on teacher?"

"If you wish," he added, pleased with himself and the dress for making this birthday special. He remembered her first birthday after her father died, when he had first come to know her. She was so broken hearted that he made it his duty to keep her smiling this time around. He almost forgot himself in his thoughts, and after clearing his throat said, "The aria from Marguerite today. You may begin."

But even after starting instruction he saw that she had lost herself in the dress once again. As she sang she traced the patterns compulsively on her palm, keeping the memory of the dress fresh in her mind as her voice took her elsewhere. Truth be told his eyes strayed more than once to her dress as he listened to her perform. Any other day it would be unacceptable to compromise her music, but today wasn't just any day. He smiled and continued to listen as her voice carried through the mirror.


End file.
